


Bottoms Up

by americalovesthecockpit



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: M/M, Smut, UKUS, WTF
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-06-21
Updated: 2012-06-21
Packaged: 2017-11-08 05:28:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,580
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/439656
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/americalovesthecockpit/pseuds/americalovesthecockpit
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>UKUS. Fun fact: alcohol ingested via the rectum is absorbed directly into the bloodstream, making you extremely drunk in record time. America knows this, and during a night of drinking and body shots, asks England to help him experiment with it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bottoms Up

**Author's Note:**

> For those of you wondering, yes this is a real thing and people do it. If you ingest alcohol through the rectum (i.e. UP THE BUTT) it's absorbed directly into the bloodstream. Because it's not filtered through the liver, it gets you REALLY drunk REALLY fast.
> 
> This should go without saying but it's dangerous so DO NOT TRY THIS. It's very easy to get alcohol poisoning and people actually die doing it.

Usually when England wanted to get drunk, he had himself a few tall glasses of ale. Or maybe some whiskey. Or rum. Actually, if his only goal was get himself sloshed, he wasn't all that picky.

Which was a good thing, because tonight he was at America's house, and had to drink what he was served. And the only thing America had in his cupboards that would be of any use to someone as accustomed to alcohol as the Brit (England didn't count those wine coolers, and was amused America had some in the first place) was tequila.

They passed the bottle back and forth all night. Now England sat on America's couch, staring down at the nearly empty bottle in his hands.

"So what's the rule about the worm again?" England asked America, who'd wandered into the kitchen. "You're not supposed to eat it … or are you?"

England heard America laugh from the other room. "I dunno – why don't you eat it and tell me!"

England swirled the bottle and watched the worm inside spin. "Ugh, no thanks."

"Haha!"

The hour was getting late. England had come to America's house with more on his mind than just getting wasted. That alcohol was just supposed to be social lubricant. To help loosen the two of them up and break down that damned inhibition England was so certain was the only thing holding them back. He knew America felt it. That awkward tension between them. It'd been there for a while.

Well, England was hoping America noticed, at least. He tried so hard to read America's expression, looking for any hints, intentional or otherwise – a look, a smirk, something. But when alcohol was clouding both their minds, it was getting more and more difficult to judge.

"What're you doin' in there?" England asked, drawling a bit from the alcohol.

"You'll see! I gotta surprise for ya."

England lifted the bottle of tequila for another swig, but then decided against it. Instead he patted over the small bottle of lube in his pants pocket with his other hand. He wondered if he'd actually get to use it or if it was a wasted effort bothering to bring it.

"Ah, here it is!" said America's voice, slurring a bit. "My big knife!"

England tensed. He was kinky, but not THAT kinky. "Uh. America?"

"Hehehe!" snickered America. "Be patient, okay, Englan'?"

"I don' think you should be foolin' with knives after having so much …" England glanced down at the bottle. He couldn't remember what they were drinking. After peering at the label he finished, "tequila."

"Oh, sweet!" America exclaimed. "I DO have some fruit after all! I didn' think I did, haha!" America snickered some more, very loudly, making it quite obvious he was drunk. "And no fat jokes in there, please!"

England chuckled lazily. He did want to make a joke about being surprised that junk food-loving America would have any fruit. He also wanted to get off of the couch and make sure America wasn't about to butcher himself with that knife. But he was pretty drunk himself. The couch felt damn good when his brain was spinning, warm and content and inebriated.

He started to fantasize about America. It had been a habit of his lately. Thoughts of bending America over a table, or pinning him against a mattress, or slamming him up against a phone booth and fucking him senseless were the images on England's mind every night as he stroked himself before falling asleep. (That last fantasy came after watching too many episodes of Dr. Who in a row — but it was still worth a good wank.)

England's hand wandered as he sat on the couch. Just as he started to fondle himself over his clothes, America appeared in the room. Luckily England pulled his hand away just in time. Also luckily, he had a good poker face.

"Whatcha got there?" England asked, his words running together.

America beamed back. "Limes!" he replied, very excitedly. "Well … actually, it's jus' one lime … but I cut it into pieces!"

England quirked an eyebrow. "What … for …"

"Also, I got salt!"

England was confused for a moment. But then he thought, and his lips curled into a smirk as he realized what America wanted.

"WHOO!" America exclaimed. "BODY SHOTS!"

"Heh heh heh …" England chuckled. "You had me worried for a while there."

America tried to smirk, but he was far too excited, so it was just a big grin. "Take off your shirt!"

England was already grabbing for the bottom of his shirt. With one quick motion it was over his head and tossed aside.

"Oh, Englan'," slurred America. "Look how pale you are! You gotta get out more, dude."

"Oh, shut it," said England, though he was grinning too. He leaned back on the couch, giving America some room.

America had a salt shaker in one hand. Holding the lime wedges awkwardly pressed to his chest with one arm, he unscrewed the top of the shaker. "You ever done this before?"

England shook his head, realizing as he did just how drunk he was, as the room was spinning.

America snickered as he leaned down. He took a good look at England's chest. A little too long of a look. England squirmed, wondering if America was going to make another joke about how pale he was, or if America's thoughts were as dirty as his.

"Get on with it."

"Oh! Uh, sorry. I was, uh …" America hesitated. "Drunk." It was a good save, in his very inebriated mind. "Here. Open your mouth."

England forgot what for, and felt a twitch between his legs as ideas ran through his mind. But then America held the lime wedge in front of his lips, snapping him from his fantasy.

"Hold it in your mouth," America drawled.

"Mmf," was all England could say. America pushed the fruit in. England held it with his teeth.

America backed up so that he could stoop down. He leaned down, then licked along the skin right above England's navel. It was one long, dragging swipe of his tongue.

England's skin tensed beneath America. He had to bite back a gasp.

America tossed a liberal amount of salt from the shaker onto England's stomach. It clung to the wet spot. Then America's tongue returned, lapping up the salt. But it was just two licks, and despite England wanting that wonderful, warm sensation to stay, America withdrew.

England watched America grab the bottle of tequila and take a big swig. He made a cringing face — America still wasn't used to doing shots straight like that — but his smile returned when he looked down to England. England, with the fruit hanging out of his mouth, looked like he had a big, green lime smile.

America snickered as he bowed his head. He drew his face close and wondered if the fruit wasn't there if England would be grinning back at him. It was hard to read his expression. America drew close, then opened his mouth to take the fruit.

He pulled it out with his teeth, their lips barely brushing. England huffed silently in disappointment as America stood up and took a bite of the lime.

"That's it?" asked England.

"Did I say I was done?" replied America, his mouth full of lime.

England squirmed again. "Well, come on now. Don' keep me waitin'."

America licked his lips. "You want me to go lower this time?"

England felt his pants tighten a little more. "Yesssss …"

America bent down. His face hovered above England's navel. England looked down, eyes not leaving America's as he fumbled to grab another lime wedge. He popped it in his mouth as America breathed heavily over him, the warm breath making his skin quiver in anticipation.

America extended his tongue. He was still locking eyes with England, watching England's facial expression. Though now it just looked kind of silly, what with that lime wedge sticking out his mouth.

America licked up. He started as low as the exposed skin was, right above the top of England's pants. He licked up, as wet and sloppily as he could, until he reached England's navel. England drew in a sharp intake of breath.

"Hehe," giggled America. "Looks like slime trails from a snail or somethin'."

England wanted to scold him for saying something stupid like that, but America was drunk, so he forgave him. "Salt that snail."

"But that kills –oh, pfft, never mind." America threw more salt on England's belly. Mixing with the saliva, it glistened at just the right angle. "Sparkly," he cooed before pressing his mouth to England's skin. His tongue slithered, tasting the salt. America's mouth was so warm. So wet too, as he'd been drinking too much to have control, and was actually drooling on England's belly.

England didn't mind. In fact, he wanted very badly to grab America's head and force it lower. Down to where an erection now pressed tightly against his pants. He wondered if America noticed it. It should have been fairly obvious, as America was so close to that area, but America was quite drunk so it was possible that he missed it.

England had been holding in a breath. He finally exhaled when America pulled his mouth away to take his next shot. He gulped it down, then still with tequila on his lips, he bent down to take the lime from England's mouth.

This time, England pursed his lips. He captured America's as they neared to bite the lime, pressing them into a kiss. America stiffened but didn't pull away. England smirked into the kiss as he pushed the lime with his tongue. He pushed the fruit into America's mouth, letting his tongue enter too, to lick around inside America's mouth. He tasted the salt and tequila and lime and it tasted somewhat bitter, but England didn't care.

"Mmm …!" America hummed into the kiss, sounding a bit startled.

England released America's lips but didn't pull away. "Do a real body shot," he whispered.

America spit out the lime. "Uh, this is a real body shot."

"No. I'll show you."

England pushed America back. He grabbed the tequila bottle and emptied it on his stomach. England was still lying back, so a small pool of the liquid collected above his belly button. It clung in the dip as England sucked in so that it didn't drip off.

"Drink up," England instructed.

"Hehe," America chuckled, trying to sound sly but being far too drunk to pull it off. He licked his lips as he leaned down again. He swooped and dove into England mouth first. He sucked eagerly, sloppily at England's navel. He mouthed with such intensity there was a sluuuurp noise.

England arched, startled. He hadn't expected America to be so forceful. He'd forgotten that the alcohol made it harder for America to remember to hold back his strength.

England's sudden arch flattened his stomach. The tequila ran down in two trickles, one on each side. America's mouth followed the dripping liquid. He licked down England's skin, lapping the tequila in his mouth.

But America wasn't fast enough for one of the trickles. Some still reached the top of England's pants, soaking into the fabric.

America had followed with his mouth down to the top of England's pants. He stopped there. And stared.

England ran his hand up the back of America's neck, then combed into his hair. "You can keep goin'," he said, his voice a bit husky.

America kept staring, and England knew there was no longer any doubt. There was no way America didn't see England's erection. That pressing bulge just inches below his face.

But just to be sure, England rutted his hips up once.

The clothed erection brushed against America's cheek.

America didn't react as much as England hoped. Instead he just stood up and knocked back another swig of tequila.

Well, he tried. But he'd forgotten England had used the last of it on himself. America choked.

"What's wrong?"

America swallowed and cringed. "UGH! I accidentally ate the worm!"

England chuckled, though his eyes fell to the side.

"EEEEEEWWW! That was gross!"

England pointed to the lime wedges. "Don't forget the rest."

England had hoped for something else when he'd told America to keep going. He'd been cheated, and the least America could do was finish off the body shot.

"Where's the salt …" America slurred. But then he shrugged. "Oh, screw it."

America picked up one of the lime wedges. He brought it to England's mouth, already open and waiting for him. But he when went to press the fruit inside, England snatched him by the wrist.

"Uh." America looked to where England had a vice grip around his wrist. "What're you doin'?"

"Drop the fruit."

"Pfft, Englan' …" America cracked up. He was too drunk to take anything serious. "You crazy!"

"I said drop it."

"In your mouf?"

"On the floor."

America opened his hand and the lime fell. "That was a waste of food."

England's hand slid up America's. He twisted his fingers, gripping two of them. America was saying "Whaaaaa …?" when England pulled those two into his mouth.

"Mmm," England said around his fingers.

"Whoa."

England closed his eyes as he started to suck. He made little hums and whimpering noises as he worked his mouth. America's fingers tasted salty from handling the salt shaker, but England kept sucking until there was no taste at all.

America closed his eyes too. He'd never felt anyone do this before. He'd never felt someone slide their tongue around his fingers. Never felt a suction against them so powerful that England's cheeks hallowed out. Never felt someone push ever so slightly in an out as they sucked. But England did all this. Eagerly.

Finally, England pulled America's wrist away, and the fingers slid out. They glistened wet with saliva.

America opened his eyes and looked to his hand. He spread the two fingers, like making a peace sign, and a thread of saliva connected them.

England licked his lips. He'd looked down between America's legs and spied the obvious lump in the front of his pants.

"America …" slurred England.

America glanced up from his wet fingers to meet England's bloodshot gaze. "Nnyeah?"

"Tell me somethin'."

" … what?"

England smirked. "What's somethin' you've always wanted to do?"

"Oh man …" America swayed where he stood, but caught his balance. "Lemme think."

England eyed America's bulge. He tried to make it obvious too. He stared pointedly at him, hoping America would see. "I do mean anything."

"It's hard."

"Yes, yes it is …" England couldn't pull his eyes away.

"It's hard to think on the spot like this …"

That's not what England thought America meant by 'hard.'

America couldn't stand much longer. He flopped on the couch beside England. "Ohhhh … lemme think some more …"

England scooted closer, eliminating the gap between them. Their thighs were side by side as they sat. "Well … your fingers are still wet."

"Yeah?"

"… is there anywhere you'd like to stick them?"

America grinned. "OH."

"Heh heh …" chuckled England. "Go on now. Before they dry."

"You jus' reminded me!" America quickly stood up. "Somethin' I've always been curious to try!"

England looked up at him, confused. "Maybe you should sit back down to properly —"

"I'm gonna need more alcohol for this!" America excitedly ran into the kitchen.

"— to properly … ah, damn." England sighed and leaned back into the couch. "He's gone."

England thought about what America could possibly want to try. How kinky could it be that he needed even more alcohol to go through with it? Of course, America was so vanilla. England figured he'd consider even something like a blowjob to be kinky. England didn't worry too much. There was nothing America could think of that England hadn't thought of, and possibly even tried. England was so sure of that as he leaned patiently back and waited.

America returned with another bottle of tequila. "SWEET! I thought I only had that one bottle but I actually had two so SCORE!"

"You're already quite wasted," said England, his smirk returning. "Too much more and you're gonna pass out before we get to have any fun."

"Not wasted enough!" America held out the bottle. "Here, hold this. I gotta get somethin' else to do this with outta my bedroom."

"Oh?" England took it from him. "Better hurry."

"I am, I am!" America raced out of the room, grinning.

"Don't keep me waitin'!" England called up as America thumped up the steps. He was already fondling himself again, now that America was out of the room. His fingers slowly dragged along his erection over his clothes. It was aching to be touched. He rubbed it for a few more moments before he heard America coming back down the stairs. When America burst back into the room, England sighed and pulled his hand away.

America, grinning widely, held up a funnel with a plastic tube. "CHECK OUT MY BEER BONG!"

England's heart sank. And so did his erection … but only a little. "… beer bong?"

"Yeah, dude! Well, obviously I'm not gonna use it for beer, but …" America didn't finish his sentence and nodded to the tequila bottle in England's hand.

England had really expected something else. A toy, a whip, something kinky. He thought he'd made it quite clear what his intentions were. Especially since they were both still hard.

"You shouldn't funnel tequila," England slurred. "You'll jus' throw up."

"No, I won't!"

"Yeah, you will. You've already had a lot to drink already."

"Yeah, but I'm not gonna drink it." America had this grin on his face that England couldn't quite place. He fiddled with the funnel absentmindedly and looked away. "I wanted to try somethin' else with it …"

England quirked an eyebrow. "More body shots? That's drinkin'."

"Not exactly …"

"What then?"

Having a hard time standing, America plopped himself down beside England on the couch. He kept looking at the funnel instead of England, as if he couldn't look him in the eye. "Ya know how I like to … like, try new things? And like, discover stuff? And be curious and all that? I'm not wordin' this good but you know what I mean …"

England side-eyed him. "… yeah?"

"Well … I heard about this thing you can do. I saw it on TV once. And when I saw it I was like, oh my God. That's so crazy. I so gotta do that sometime."

England was still disappointed that he hadn't gotten what he wanted, but he was curious. "What is it already?"

America didn't take his eyes off the funnel. "Well … it's like science, okay? So hear this out, all right?"

"Uh huh …"

"There's a way you can like, ingest the alcohol faster and better than drinking it. It's absorbed directly into the intestines or somethin' like that, so like you feel it immediately and much more intense. I'm drunk so I don't remember all the sciencey stuff about how it works, but it does."

"I don't understand."

"Like it only takes a little bit to get drunk and when you do it, it's like immediate! It's supposed to be really awesome."

"And what way is this exactly?"

"Uh …" America was having a hard time saying it. He was hoping England could figure it out from what he'd described. But England was drunk too and didn't get it. "Well, uh, let me rephrase all that."

England noticed a light red blush tinting America's face. "Okay …"

America pointed to England. "YOU."

England smirked. "Yeah?"

America pointed to himself and down. "MY ASS."

England grinned, getting quite excited. "YEAH?"

America held up the funnel. "AND THE BEER BONG."

England's face fell. "… what?"

"D-don't judge me!" stammered America. "I'm jus' curious is all! That a crime? GOSH!"

"I don't still quite understand what you're talkin' about …"

America sighed, frustrated. "If you ingest alcohol up the ass it doesn't go through the liver, so it gets you super drunk super fast! Gosh, listen already, DUH!"

"Up the …" England couldn't finish. "… y-you're kiddin', right?"

America blushed harder and glanced at the floor. "No …"

"I mean … damn. I love alcohol and I'd be lyin' if I said I didn't enjoy some arse play every now and again … but those two things together? Somehow that's not very appealin' …"

"Well, I jus' wanna try it, OKAY!"

"Ugh, you're wasted, of course you want to do dumb things …"

"It's one of things that like I wanna try jus' so I can say I did it, ya know?"

"You want to brag about strange things …"

America finally met England's gaze. "Please … Englan', I'm like beggin' you. It's not safe to do by yourself and I don't really feel comfortable doin' it around anyone else."

England stared back. He was hesitating. Thinking about whether he should agree or not. On one hand, it was a pretty stupid thing to do. A very easy way to get alcohol poisoning. Even fatally. Not that America would die since he is a country, but he could certainly get very sick.

On the other hand, it would mean England would get to see America's ass. So …

"Fine."

America grinned. "Really? You'll help me do it?"

England popped open the tequila bottle. "Yes. But only a little at a time! Your liver can only handle so much, ya know."

"Okay, fair 'nough."

"And I want you to dilute it a bit. With water or somethin'."

"Why?"

"Partly so you don't pass out as soon as we start." England gave him a pointed look. "But mostly so it doesn't burn your arsehole like fire."

"Oh, right. I didn't even think of that, haha!"

America left for the kitchen and England could hear running water. He returned with a tall glass and set it on the coffee table in front of the couch.

"All right, there's some water. We can mix that with the tequila."

"Well, hurry now," said England, eyeing America below the belt. "Better get those trousers off."

"Oh! Right."

America undid his belt and slid it through the loops. "I'm glad I'm drunk or I'd be kinda embarrassed to do this in front of you, haha," he said as he unbuttoned the top button of his pants.

England leered hungrily at America's waist. "Thank God for alcohol …"

America unzipped. "God, why're you lookin' at me like that?"

"Jus' admirin'."

America tugged down the top of his pants, exposing his hip bones. "It's weird. I feel like a stripper. 'Cause like, you're sittin' on the couch and I'm standin' above you undressing …"

"Heh … shall I slip a dollar into your boxers?"

That's all America had on his bottom half, now that he was kicking off his pants. "Psssh! A dollar? You cheapskate!"

England eyed the bulge in those boxers. He'd wondered if America's erection was still there and was thrilled to see that it was. "Oh? You think you deserve more?"

"Hells yeah!" America's fingers were curled around the waistband of his boxers. "I mean, look at my hot and sexy body! You best put at least a twenty in there."

"A twenty?" England smirked. "I'll be the judge of that. Lose those boxers and let's see what you're worth."

America seemed to hesitate, but finally slid his boxers down and off. He looked away modestly as he balled the garment and tossed it aside.

But England was anything but modest. He was leering again, eyes feasting and hungry mouth grinning wickedly. "Oh my, America," he said. "Look how big you've gotten."

America had his hands behind his back. He blushed and continued to look away sheepishly. "Uh … yeah …"

"And for once I'm not talking about your pudge."

"HEY!"

"Very nice." England couldn't tear his eyes away from America's thick, erect cock. "If you were a stripper, I'd certainly tuck a twenty in your G-string."

"Hehe …" America climbed onto the couch. "Good to know I have a backup plan! With the recession the way it is, I might need to be struttin' my stuff."

America climbed onto the couch on all fours. He positioned himself on his knees, with his arms on the armrest, and his bottom facing England, still sitting on the couch.

The position made England's cock twitch back to full attention. It took all his self-control not to climb on top of America and take him from behind.

Instead he just sat back and enjoyed the nice view of America's ass. Full and round and directly in front of him. He wanted to grope those firm, perky cheeks but grudgingly restrained himself.

America wriggled his ass a little. "I'm so excited," he said, glancing back at England. "Hurry up and start!"

England picked up the funnel. "Patience, poppet."

"HAHAHA POPPET? ! WHAT THE HELL IS THAT?"

"Shhh." England kinked the plastic tube under where it connected to the funnel. "Don't ruin the mood."

"… huh? What mood?"

England's hands were shaky from alcohol-shot coordination, but he managed to pour some of the water in the funnel. Then he grabbed the tequila bottle and mixed it in with the water. He swirled it in the funnel.

America watched eagerly. "Oh, boy. This is gonna be so awesome."

Satisfied with the level of dilution, England positioned himself behind America. He sat on his knees right behind America's propped up ass. In one hand was the funnel holding the kinked tube below it, and the other held the end of the tube. "Spread yourself," he commanded. "I have my hands full here."

America reached back and grabbed himself a cheek in each hand. He pulled them apart, exposing himself completely to England.

England sucked in a breath and almost dropped the funnel. He felt his cock throb at the display in front of him. He wanted so badly to unzip his suffocating erection and plunge himself into that tight opening presented so welcomingly in front of him.

"Come on, Englan'," said America. "Let's do this!"

England shook himself and remembered the task at hand. "Yeah, uh …" England sounded spacey. "… forgive me if I do a shite job with this. I'm quite wasted myself and it's not like I've done it before."

"Do your best!" America replied excitedly, facing away again and placing his chin on the armrest.

England brought the end of the tube closer. "Raise your arse. It's gonna spill back out if you don't."

"A'ight," slurred America as he obeyed, propping his ass up higher.

Drawing near America's entrance with the end of the tube, England wondered how this would work. He wasn't quite sure exactly how to fit it in, as the tube was soft and bendy. He felt bold and was horny, so he took a risk and poked a finger in instead of the tube.

"Whaaa!" startled America.

"S-sorry …" said England. "Jus' wanted to clear away to fit it in …"

"Oh, okay …"

England held his finger inside for a few moments. He held it in to feel and revel in that tightness, the way America twitched and clenched around him, as he fantasized about what it'd feel like to actually penetrate him with his cock …

"… Englan'?"

"Oh, sorry. Got distracted."

England slowly withdrew his finger. When only the tip of his finger was left, he held it there and pressed it to the side, opening a way for the tube. He slid the end of the tube in, and then both his finger and it were inside.

"Aw, damn …" said America, and England couldn't tell if it was a good damn or a bad damn.

He pulled his finger out completely, leaving the tube inside. He pushed it in more, feeding the tube up inside America, until he felt he had enough in so that it wouldn't slip out.

"You all right?" asked England.

"Yeah …" replied America with a heavy breath. He was facing the wall so England couldn't see his expression.

"Okay. I'm gonna get ready to do it."

"Awesome."

England raised the funnel up high. The other hand still held the tube in place near America's ass, to keep it from sliding out. England unkinked the tube, letting the alcohol flow. Gravity rushed it down where it flowed into America's waiting ass.

America tensed when he felt it. He almost pulled away, but stopped himself. "Oh, MAN!" he exclaimed. "It's so COLD!"

England was eagerly watching America's hole drink up the liquid. "You should have used warm water."

"Didn' … aahh! … th-think about it." America's hands dug into the armrest. "Oh, God, now it burns …"

England clasped his hand around the tube, kinking it again. The flow stopped. "Are you okay?"

America squeezed his eyes closed tightly. "It buuuuurns …"

"I told you it would."

"You didn't dilute it 'nough."

"Imagine how much worse it'd be if I didn't dilute it at all."

"Ahhh …" America took a deep breath and sighed. "It's a-all right. I can handle it."

"You better, it's too late now …"

"Aw, shit …" America slacked his muscles, though he lazily let his ass hang up in the air. "I feel it. Oh my God, I tot'ly feel it now, Englan'."

"Yeah? How's it feel?"

"'mazin', oh my God. So warm an' good an', oh man, I'm sooooo drunk, haha!"

"You were right." England still eyed America's perky ass cheeks. "That was fast."

"Hahaha!" America couldn't stop cracking up. "Le's do this more o'fen, mm'kay? Pfft, haha! I can't believe I did it, hehe!"

"You definitely did …"

"Hehehe! It's so funny! I'm like takin' it in da ass! PFFFT!"

England smirked. "You're a silly drunk, aren't you?"

"Haha, yeah. I'm like … sooooo drunk right now. Aren't I?"

"You are." England started to remove the tube, but America stopped him.

"NO WAIT!" he said, whipping his head back to look at England. "Do it som'ore!"

England's hand froze. "Uh … I think you've had enough."

"Nooooo!" he whined. "I wan' more! Fill me up!"

"I dunno …"

"FILL ME UP!"

England wanted to fill America's ass up with something else, but obliged with America's request. He unkinked the tube again, and the alcohol flowed.

"Fffffff …" hissed America.

America's body went even slacker. He couldn't support himself anymore. He collapsed flat on his stomach. The alcohol didn't allow his muscles to hold himself up any longer.

A bit of the alcohol was spilling back out, and England scrunched the tube in his hand again to stop the flow. "Ah, damn it … are you okay?"

America was face down in the armrest. "Urggghhh …" he moaned.

"… America?"

"Mmm … shiiiiiiit…"

He was drunk out of his mind.

England's thoughts were still dirty, and he wondered if America was squishing his erection between him and the couch. A quick peek up under between his legs revealed America was no longer hard. He was far too drunk, and the alcohol had thinned his blood too much to sustain an erection any longer.

"Are you all right?" asked England.

"Mmmfff …" America mumbled into the couch.

"You're gonna have one bloody hell of a hangover tomorrow. You know that, right?"

America briefly lifted his head, just long enough to say, "MORE!"

England raised his eyebrows. "More? You're jokin', right?"

"No, mooooore …" said America, muffled by the armrest.

"You've already had way too much. If you were a human, you'd be dead now."

"Hehehe …" chuckled America.

"I'm serious," said England. "You're damn lucky to be a country. This much would kill a human."

America wasn't listening. "I said MOOOOORE!"

"Oh, God, why do I listen to you …" sighed England. "This is the last time." He released his hand, and the alcohol shot down the tube. The funnel emptied as the last of the liquid poured into America.

"Mmmm …" moaned America. His face was contorted in a contented, dopey grin.

England pulled the tube out of him. "Satisfied?"

"Unnn …" whimpered America.

"I hope you're happy." England set the funnel aside, on the coffee table. "You used the last of it."

America didn't respond.

"Hey, listen to me when I'm talkin' to you!"

Still no response.

"America?" England leaned over. He poked America on his side. "You okay?"

"…"

Nothing.

Enand became concerned. As a test (and an indulgence …) he smacked America on his ass cheek. A quick, swift slap.

America didn't respond. His voice didn't whimper and his skin didn't tense.

"Shit," said England. "You passed out on me."

England had a feeling this would happen. It was a lethal dose for a human, so it was no surprise it would render America unconscious. America would be okay with time, but England was disappointed. He'd hoped to have some fun with America tonight. He didn't bring that lube bottle for nothing. And now he was left with an erection still throbbing in his pants and an unconscious body.

England squirmed. He had an idea.

He licked his finger and slid it back inside America, just like he had earlier. Though earlier, it had been warm. Now it was cold and wet from the chilled liquid that had flowed into him. England wormed his finger deeper, then slid a second inside.

"I wish you were awake for this, America," he said. "I'd love to see your face whilst I stretch you."

England couldn't see it, as America was still faced the other way, but America's face actually was quite happy looking. He'd passed out with that dopey grin on his face, and a bit of drool sliding out of the corner of his mouth.

England removed his fingers and thought. There was alcohol still inside America. Even drunk, England knew alcohol and orifices don't always mix. He knew he needed to do something about this.

England lowered himself, positioning his face directly in front of America's ass.

"God, why did you haveta pass out on me?" he lamented.

But that was enough lamenting.

England spread America, one hand per cheek. Then he ducked his head and poked his tongue inside America's entrance.

It tasted like tequila.

England didn't mind tequila, so he closed his mouth over America's hole. And sucked. Hard.

"Mmm," he hummed.

Now that was a real body shot.

He knew he needed to get as much out as he could, or his urethra would burn like hell. He slurped and swallowed, tasting only tequila, as America had ingested so much alcohol that inside was washed clean. It was like an alcohol enema.

England wished so badly America was still awake for this. He knew he'd enjoy it. England wanted to see America's face startle at the sensation, then contort in bliss as England kept sucking, and moan wantonly at the feeling. England's mouth, still fastened tightly around America's entrance, smiled against America's skin as he imagined America's reaction.

Finally, when he was satisfied he'd gotten as much out as he could, England pulled away. He wiped the drool hanging down from his mouth with his sleeve.

He couldn't take it anymore. His aching erection was screaming to be released. It'd never gone away during the entire experiment, only being more aroused by America's decadent display of his ass. England hurriedly unbuttoned himself and his neglected cock flopped out of his pants.

"Oh, God," England panted, feeling relieved to not be confined any longer.

He climbed on top of America's slackened body.

"Forgive me, America …" he whispered. "If you were awake, I promise you'd enjoy this."

That was how he rationalized penetrating an unconscious body.

England gripped his cock and lined himself up. After rooting around for a moment for the hole, England plunged himself inside.

"Oh, fuck …" he whimpered.

It was still cool inside but the sensation thrilled England. It felt unique, and coupled with the incredible tightness squeezing him, almost pushed him over the edge as soon as he entered.

England took a few deep breaths and brought himself back.

"Nnn, yessss …" moaned England as he began thrusting. "Shit …"

He'd waited so long for this. It was a shame America was black out drunk.

"God," whimpered England.

America couldn't feel it anyway, so England didn't hold back. There was no point in starting slow and building up. America had no need to adjust if he was unconscious. So England eagerly slammed into him shortly after entering him, furiously thrusting away.

Though regardless of America's condition, England would have a hard time doing it any other way. He'd been so achingly, painfully hard for so long. To finally feel that tight, squeezing blissful pleasure sheathing him was too much. He wanted it all. Fast and hard.

They both sank into the couch as England pounded into him. The cushion was squished with the weight and power of England's hard thrusts.

Going at this frenzied pace, England couldn't last very long. Had America been conscious, England would have been embarrassed about how long (or rather, short) he lasted.

With a few more frantic, deep thrusts England popped. He came hard, sobbing America's name as he finished pumping through his release.

When the last trickles of cum were emptied out of him, England slumped over America's body. He collapsed in exhaustion.

"Damn …" he sighed.

It burned a little, but England was still reeling in his post orgasm haze and didn't care.

X

The next morning, both of them woke up very irritated. The sun poured in from the window, hitting them in the eyes.

"Ugggh …" England groaned, squinting his still closed eyes. "Damn sun …"

"Uuuurrrgggh …" America moaned.

"My head is fucking killing me."

England opened his eyes and immediately, before he could even think, said very quickly. "OH FUCK."

He was still lying on top of America. America was still naked from the waist down underneath him. Dried cum clung to the tops of America's thighs. But most damning of all was England's now soft cock still inside him.

England quickly pulled out. "Oh my God … oh shit …" he panicked. It was a drunken haze, but what happened last night was coming back to him. He hurriedly sat up and climbed off America, scared of his reaction.

"Oh … man …" America sat up too, though very lazily. He was rubbing his head, then suddenly he froze. His eyes widened and his mouth fell agape.

"America! I … I …" stammered England, still scooting away on the couch.

America stared dead ahead. "England …"

"About last night! I, um, -"

"Oh my God. SHIT."

"I know … we were drunk, it's —"

America was staring at the half-empty tequila bottle on the coffee table. "Oh, this is the worst!" he sobbed.

"Ah, damn it, I knew we shouldn't have drank so m—"

"THE WORM IS GONE!"

"… what?"

"The worm!" exclaimed America, pointing to the tequila bottle. Which only had tequila in it. "That's the second bottle! And the worm is GONE!"

"Uh …"

"Do you realize what this means? !" America sobbed.

England was frantically zipping up his pants. "… uh, what?"

"IT MUST HAVE BEEN FUNNELED INSIDE OF ME!" America buried his face in his hands. "Oh, God! It's probably still in there!"

"Huh?" England gave him a confused look. "You're not angry that I fucked you last night?"

"Hmm?" America glanced up. "Oh, naaah. I kinda figured that was coming. I just wish I'd been awake to enjoy it, haha!"

England deadpanned. He couldn't believe it. "Heh …"

"Say, uh, I have another request …" America looked away sheepishly. "If you're up for it."

England swallowed, feeling his throat go dry. "… what is it?"

"Um … that worm's gotta come out …" America looked up and grinned. "You wanna help me go in there and find it?"

England smirked. "Perhaps."

America smirked back. "And if it leads somewhere else … well, that's okey."

"… KINKY."

(The end!)


End file.
